Mistakes
by tyrna
Summary: Sometimes mistakes can happen, but the price that others pay might be more than a certain former slave bargained for. Especially if that other is the mage he believes he should hate.  Fenris/Anders. Warning! M/M relationship and discussion/signs of abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Fenris was pacing, as he usually did when he was alone. Sorting out his thoughts always seemed to go better when his feet were moving, but today his mind remained jumbled. Unfortunately, all his musings were on one man: Hawke. The Elf had long tried to stamp down his longing and lust for the warrior, but each time it failed. That usually ended with him moaning his leader's name as he roughly jerked himself off. Today though… Today would be different. He was finally going to tell the man his feelings, and damn the consequences. However, pounding on his front door brought him out of his musings, and he fairly ran to answer it, pausing for just a moment to unsheathe the sword on his back. His eyes widened as he opened the door, seeing the tall, dark-haired man on the other side. "Hawke?" he managed to choke out, backing up slightly and setting his blade down.

"Is something wrong, Fenris?" the human asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. "You seem a little pale."

"It- It's nothing. I'm fine. Did you need something?" Hawke nodded, suddenly seeming a bit unsure of himself. What was going on?

"Well… See, I have a letter for you."

"A letter?" The Elf asked, raising an eyebrow even as he folded his arms across his chest. "I wasn't sure you knew how to write."

"Says the one who couldn't read until I showed him," Hawke shot back with a smirk. Fenris smiled slightly, knowing that it had been those sessions that had cemented his feelings for the other man.

"So… What's the letter about?" Again, Hawke seemed slightly uncomfortable, even as he handed the sealed envelope to the Elf.

"Oh, just read it. Everything's explained in it. I've… Got to go. You can come to the estate when you're done reading and understanding everything. Bye now!" Just like that, he was gone, and Fenris stared at the letter for a few moments before shrugging and heading back to his room. Sitting at the table, he grabbed an open wine bottle as he tore open the letter, eyes slowly making their way across the page. The script was rather neat, and got straight to the point. Even so, Fenris' heart skipped a beat as he read and re-read the words a couple of times.

_Dear Fenris,_

_I'm writing this letter because I'm not sure saying all this in person is a good idea. For quite some time, I've found myself attracted to you. Even though we stand at two opposite ends of the Freedom for Mages issue, I can't help it. Your strength, your determination, and your compassion for those who have been enslaved does more to turn me on than anything negative does to turn me away. Whenever we travel together, it's all I can do not to just blurt it out in front of everyone and embarrass myself. So if you want to discuss this further, come to my place. I promise that no matter where this leads, I'll keep it a secret._

Fenris clutched the paper to his chest, willing his heart to stop thudding so loudly. He needed to go talk to Hawke right now. He needed to get everything out in the open. As he left his mansion, his steps even seemed slightly lighter, and he couldn't help but smile. Today was going to be a good day after all.

* * *

><p>Bodahn answered the door, looking slightly surprised by the Elf standing on the other side of it. "Master Fenris, what can I do for you?"<p>

"Is Hawke home? I wish to speak with him."

"He's in the study with Master Anders." Fenris grimaced as he stepped into the estate. The abomination was here? Wonderful… He headed towards the study, well acquainted with the layout of the house by now. Pausing at the door, he caught sight of Hawke standing by the fire, the healer at his side.

"Thank you for letting me stay here, Hawke. I owe you my life." The warrior sighed and laid a gentle hand on the other man's shoulder.

"You owe me nothing Anders. I care about you, and I'm not about to let the Templars have you. They're going to have to go through me first." Fenris watched with narrowed eyes as the mage suddenly hugged Hawke, burying his face in the man's shoulder. The warrior was caught off-guard for only a moment, before he smiled affectionately and wrapped strong arms around Anders, rubbing his back. "Hey, it's all right. You're safe now."

"Thank you so much. You have no idea how long I've waited for someone to say that to me." Hawke smirked, pulling back and patting the ex-Warden on the head.

"Oh, I'm sure there's a certain- Fenris?" The Elf had thrown the door open, body visibly trembling. Anders turned, fear and something else flitting across his face for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"What is that abomination doing here, is a better question? You're allowing him to stay with you? What nonsense is that?"

"The Templars are getting too close to the clinic," the healer explained. "I needed a safe place to run to, and Hawke said he would protect me."

"Protect you? No one can protect you from your own stupidity!" The Elf shot back, fists clenched at his side. "You keep that damn clinic open, flaunting your powers and practically daring the Knight Commander herself to raid the place. On top of that, you still see no danger to your merge with that Demon-"

"Justice is **not** a Demon!"

"All right you two, enough," Hawke interjected, stepping between the two of them. "You fight like an old married couple, just without the old, married part." Fenris sneered as Anders blushed.

"Vasta fas, that is a disgusting thought!" the former slave yelled, shaking his head. He pointed a finger at Anders, whose eyes widened. "You, out! I would speak to Hawke alone." The mage turned questioning eyes back to their leader, but the dark-haired man just smiled and patted Anders' arm.

"I'll be fine, Anders."

"All right. I'm going to head back to the clinic." When he was gone, Fenris turned again to Hawke, who seated himself on the sofa, staring at the Elf.

"Well?"

"Is he really going to be staying here? With you?"

"Are you volunteering your place?"

"Absolutely not!" The venom in his voice was thick, and Hawke raised an eyebrow. Something had set Fenris off, but he wasn't sure what it was.

"Do you really hate Anders that much that you'd begrudge him protection?"

"He will drag you down with him! The Templars will come here, and you… You will fight them."

"Damned right I will," Hawke shot back, eyes darkening. "I'll not let them take any more mages, especially ones I care about."

"You… Care about the mage?" Fenris' voice was quiet, and hurt flitted through his eyes as the human warrior observed him. What was going on?

"Of course I do. Fenris, what is the matter with you?"

"I thought… No, it is unimportant."

"Obviously it isn't, since you burst in here like there was something wrong."

"The mage has your attentions, yes?" Hawke seemed confused.

"I need to protect him, yes."

"And if you no longer needed to protect him?"

"My focus could be elsewhere, I suppose." This line of questioning was confusing the human, but he wasn't sure he wanted further details. Fenris nodded, turning towards the door with a smirk.

"Then I will take care of him for you, Hawke." When he was out of the room, Hawke sighed heavily.

"Oh good. I was starting to think Fenris was going to try and kill Anders. Hopefully this makes that damn Elf realize how much our little healer cares about him…" However, he didn't know that said Elf had other plans. Quickly leaving the mansion, Fenris headed for the Gallows. He would make that abomination pay. He would make sure that there wasn't anything left of him for Hawke to worry about, and he knew just who to talk to for aid in his quest.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Knight Captain Cullen stared at the Elf in disbelief. "Let me understand this: You know where the apostate running the clinic is hiding in Darktown? Not only that, but you will lead a squad of my men there?"  
>"That is correct." Fenris stood with his arms folded, meeting the human's confused looks with one of mild boredom.<p>

"Forgive me for questioning this, but aren't you both friends of the Champion?"

"That does not mean that the mage and I are friends. Quite the opposite: I cannot stand him and his whining about mages' needing freedom. And now he has involved Hawke even further, and I seek to end that. Do we have a deal, Knight Captain?" Cullen pursed his lips and turned away for a moment, thinking. He knew Anders from Ferelden, and the man had usually been nothing more than a pain in the ass at the Tower. However, now he was more a thorn in Meredith's side, and she wanted him gone. Dead or Tranqiled, it mattered little to the Knight Commander. And if he were the one to issue the raid order… It would cement his place at her side for years to come.

"We have a deal, Ser Elf. Give me a day to put a squad together, and then they will meet you in Darktown at first light tomorrow. Lead them to the clinic without incident, and they will take it from there. However…"

"What is it?"

"I need you to make sure that the Champion will not interfere. I know that he tends to side with the mages, and if he gets into a battle with my men…"

"You are afraid Kirkwall will not look so highly on the Templars after that?"

"That, and I do not wish for the death of the Champion." Fenris snorted and shook his head, heading for the door.

"Rest assured Knight Captain, that if Hawke ever did fight your Order, you would be hard-pressed to kill him. Pray that day never comes." When the Elf was gone, Cullen let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I do pray that day never comes. More than you can imagine."

* * *

><p>Anders was putting things together for the day when he heard a knock on the clinic door. Wondering who could be out there before the lanterns were lit, he carefully peeked out, only to have his eyes nearly bug out of his head. Fenris was standing there, looking around as if he expected an attack. "Fenris? Are you all right? What's wrong?"<p>

"Are you alone, mage?" Anders frowned, confused as to what was going on.

"Yes, at least for the moment. Did you want to come in?" Fenris nodded, casting a quick glance behind him, but the healer saw nothing there. He let the Elf in and closed the door once more, running a hand through his hair as he tied it back. "What is it?"

"Are you in love with Hawke?" The question caught him so off-guard that Anders could only stare at the warrior, mouth agape.

"…What?"

"You heard me, mage: Are you in love with Hawke?" After another moment of silence, Anders sighed and snickered.

"Maker, no. Fenris… He treats me like a brother, and I think of him as family as well." When the Elf appeared confused, Anders sighed. "Is this about the other day, when you barged into the study?"

"I… A bit, yes."

"Fenris, I promise you that I do not have romantic feelings for Hawke, and never will. There is only one man who has my attention at the moment." Fenris shook his head, still slightly confused, but at least feeling a bit more hopeful. Perhaps when Hawke found out about Anders' fate, he wouldn't be as upset as he'd feared. That was one thing he never wanted: To piss off Hawke. "Fenris?" Anders' voice cut into his musings, and the healer placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Did that help?"

"More than you know, mage."

"Then… Can I ask you something?"

"Another time. I have things I need to attend to. And you have… Patients to see." The mage's face fell a little, but he nodded.

"True enough. But if it's all right with you, I would like to talk later."

"I'll consider it," Fenris replied, a bit thrown-off by the soft tone in Anders' voice. He opened the door, eyes darting all over again as he left the clinic. He passed a small alley not twenty feet away, and four Templars clanked into sight.

"He is in there?" the leader asked.

"He is, and there are no innocent bystanders."

"Thank you, Elf. You have done the Order a great service."

"Just make sure you are gone by day's end. I doubt I can keep the Champion away from here for much longer than that."

"Very well." Fenris headed back towards the entrance to Lowtown, even as the Templars advanced on the clinic, and the unknowing mage within.

* * *

><p>Fenris awoke the next day in a chair that wasn't his, next to a fireplace that wasn't in his home. "Where?.." And then he remembered: He and Hawke had spent the night drinking, reminiscing about various battles and tasks they'd been through. The flight from Ferelden had been particularly interesting, and the Elf had also shared his own escape from Danarius for the first time. Now he sat up, holding his head and taking deep breaths to chase away the slight throbbing pain in his temples.<p>

"Well, look who's finally up," Isabella drawled, sashaying into the room.

"What are you doing here?"

"I stopped by last night, remember?" She perched on the arm of his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"Not really. I just remember passing the bottle back and forth with Hawke." The Elf stood, and his foot kicked into an empty bottle, which rolled into two others. Looking around, he realized that there were quite a few more than he remembered opening…

"Fenris, it was you, me, and Hawke drinking until all hours last night. He only went upstairs to bed because Merrill said she was lonely." The former slave's ears pricked up at that statement, and he turned to face the pirate.

"Merrill was lonely? Since when does she stay here? And why did she need Hawke in bed?" Isabella's smile slowly turned into a smirk, and she tilted her head back and started laughing.

"Oh, you are so precious! You mean to tell me that you didn't know they're lovers?" The world seemed to stop for a moment as Fenris felt his heart skip a beat. Hawke and… The Dalish? The blood-mage? But… **Why**? "Fenris? Are you all right?"

"How long?" he managed to gasp out, feeling the throbbing return full force in his head. Isabella stood and placed a hand on his arm, concern on her face. She could tell that something was wrong.

"Since she returned to her Clan and defeated that Vartrain- Vartangent- That thing that looked like a cross between a tree and a spider."

"But… But she kept her house in the Alienage?"

"It's where she keeps her mirror. You know, the one you and Anders always yell at her about? The one that might be some gateway for a Demon, or something?"

"Oh, there you two are." Hawke's rich baritone floated in from the door, and Fenris chanced to glance over. He saw the warrior standing in his house clothes, Merrill at his side, her hands wrapped around one of his. "Everything all right, Fenris? You look like you're about to be sick."

"Maybe we should take him to see Anders then," the Dalish suggested with an innocent smile. The warrior Elf crossed the room in two strides, jabbing his finger in Hawke's face, anger clear on his own.

"That letter you gave me the other day. Who was it from?" Hawke frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"You mean he didn't sign it?"

"Who was it?" the Elf roared, now grabbing the front of Hawke's clothes. However, the taller man didn't move much, but Fenris saw the look of displeasure flit across his features. One large hand swiftly detached the Elf, and with the other, he pushed Merrill slightly behind him.

"Anders gave it to me. Said he couldn't give it to you without fearing you'd rip his heart out, so he asked if I could deliver it for him. He told me the basic idea of what he'd written, and… I admit, I was a little uncomfortable."

"But… I thought you... That we-"

"Oh sweet Maker, you thought Hawke liked men?" Isabella yelled, dissolving into giggles. "No, he's definitely into women. I think both Merrill and I can attest to that, right Kitten?" The mage only blushed a deep crimson, and Isabella smiled wickedly.

"The mage is in love with me?"

"He has been for a while, Fenris," Hawke continued. "But you're always so harsh to him, that he never had the courage to tell you-" At that moment, the front door burst open, and Lirene ran in, eyes wide and chest heaving. Everyone turned to see her, and Hawke ran over to the obviously distraught woman.

"Champion! You must come to the clinic quickly!"

"What's the matter? What happened?"

"Templars! Please, you must save the Healer!" She collapsed, crying, and Bodahn went to her, helping her up. Orana stood in the doorway to the kitchen, hands over her mouth in horror. Hawke's Mabari, Gar, stood growling at the top of the stairs.

"You heard the woman. Let's get down there. We'll go through the cellar, and that'll put us nearly on top of the clinic. Bodahn, get word to Varric about what happened. And if you see any guards, have them send Aveline a message as well."

"Of course, Messere." Hawke bounded up the stairs to his room, and was down mere minutes later, armor on and sword strapped to his back. Isabella checked her daggers, and Merrill grabbed her staff. Fenris still felt numb, but sheathed his weapon as well as he followed the group. A stray thought kept poking at him however.

_'Why are the Templars still there? Have they been fighting the mage this whole time? Are they merely there to keep the refugees away?'_ Once in the cellar, Hawke opened the trap door that led to Darktown and jumped down, followed by Merrill, and then Isabella. Again, the former slave followed, still not processing everything that was going on around him. They saw a crowd gathered around the clinic, and there were two Templars outside, pushing people away and yelling at them to disperse.

"Move along, all of you! You're lucky we don't turn you all in for harboring a dangerous apostate!"

"He's our Healer!"

"Give him back!"

"Death to the Templars!"

"This is going to turn ugly," Merrill stated, gripping her staff tight.

"For the Templars, anyway," Hawke mused, bringing his weapon to bear. "Isabella, we hit them together, okay?"

"You got it," the rogue said, taking her daggers and flipping them around a few times. "Kitten, give us an opening, would you?"

"My pleasure!" The mage made a few gestures, and then a small earthquake rocked the section by the clinic, knocking everyone off their feet. Isabella and Hawke wasted no time, running up and dealing with the two armored door-guards. While the pirate jabbed both her weapons into the man's neck, the warrior thrust his sword completely through the other Templar, pulling it out in a great gout of blood.

"All of you, get out of here! We'll handle this!" he told the crowd.

"The Champion's here!"

"He'll set those Templars straight!"

"The Healer is saved!" Fenris and Merrill joined them, and Hawke turned his attention to the two wooden doors.

"I hope Anders can forgive me for this." He then backed up a bit, and ran at the door, hitting it with an armored shoulder. Pieces flew everywhere, and the group was now in the clinic. However, they all stopped at the door, taking in the sight before them. Fenris felt all the blood drain from his face, and his chest tightened painfully, making it hard to breathe. Anders was secured between two pillars by lengths of chain that were manacled to either wrist, putting him standing in the middle of his clinic. Everything was broken and knocked over, as if a battle had occurred. The healer was bare from the waist up, and dirt and blood covered his entire torso. His head was down, as if he were unconscious, but then he lifted it, staring at the group with eyes that held such pain. One Templar was in front of him, holding up an empty vial. Another was leaning against the far wall, and drew his sword when he saw the group. Fenris met those amber eyes, and rage boiled in his blood. They had tortured him. For an entire day. This hadn't been what he'd wanted. This wasn't the fate he would wish on anyone. To be treated like… A slave.

He had been a fool. And these Templars would pay dearly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

While Fenris was too busy being shocked, Hawke was too busy being angry to do much of anything except yell at the Templars. "You utter **bastards**!" Then he was off, meeting the blade of the far Templar with a heavy clang. He fought like a man possessed, just continuing to slash at the enemy in front of him.

"Kitten, a little help over here!" Isabella called, having made her way over to the Templar that had been in front of the healer.

"But Isabella, shouldn't we help-"

"Who, Hawke? He'll be fine, sweet thing! Besides… I'd rather not get within sword range right now." A moment later, the Dalish cast a spell to immobilize the Templar, and Isabella jammed her daggers into the joints of his arms, making sure he couldn't draw his weapon. "There, now we can interrogate him!" Fenris finally found that his limbs responded to his desire to move, and he crossed to their "prisoner" in one lyrium-enhanced stride. Grabbing the man's face between his taloned fingers, he glared at him, pointing back at Anders, whose head was once again down.

"How could you do this?" he demanded. "What did you gain by torturing him?"

"We were only having a bit of fun, messere," the man weakly replied, eyes wide. "Ser Humphries said we could do what we wanted so long as he was in front of Meredith by this afternoon. Besides, we used him to show those apprentices what happens if you become an apostate."

"Wait a moment," Isabella said as she clapped a hand on Fenris' shoulder. "You paraded other mages down here and… Hurt him in front of them?" The Templar swallowed hard and nodded carefully, trying not to cut himself on the Elf's gauntlets.

"Um… Yes… Yes milady, we did."

"Elgar'non," Merrill whispered, closing her eyes and turning away. She felt a large presence behind her, and looked up to see Hawke. His face was still twisted with rage, and the hand holding his sword was trembling slightly. The Elven mage did not dare look at his opponent. She already knew it would be little more than an armored, gory mess. "Hawke, are you-"

"Why are we wasting time with him? Let's get Anders out of here."

"I'll go unlock those cuffs," Isabella said quickly, seeing the look on the warrior's face. Fenris suddenly found himself pulled back, his talons leaving cuts on the Templar's face. He started to protest, but Hawke glanced back at him, eyes narrowed.

"Catch Anders when he falls. I've got this." The Elf nodded, and Merrill quickly followed him back towards the blonde. Hawke then gripped the man's throat, squeezing slightly as an evil smirk swept over his face. "Any last words, scum?"

"Mercy!" the Templar squeaked, tears now forming in his eyes.

"Mercy? You think to ask me for that when the proof of your crime is still chained in his own clinic? You think I would grant mercy to those who tortured one of my friends? What makes you think I will show a wretch like you mercy?" The Templar started crying, knees trying to shake but still pinned by Merrill's spell.

"Andraste as my witness, I'll never harm another mage again! I swear it!" Hawke brought his face so close to the other man's that their noses nearly touched, his golden eyes almost seeming to glow with a dark light.

"You're right. You won't." The sword thrust was sudden, but the aim was true. There was a moment of pain for the Templar as he felt the sword pierce his heart, but that was all. Hawke pulled his blade out and turned back to the others just in time to see Anders drop into Fenris' arms, the Elf looking concerned and shocked. "How is he?"

"Not good," Merrill stated softly, running her hand lightly down the healer's face. "He's got a fever, and I think they drugged him with something."

"Magebane," Anders whispered, eyes fluttering open. "Poison. Makes you use twice as much mana for spells."

"But… But that's only for coating weapons," Isabella argued. "You're not supposed to make someone drink it."

"Justice… He tried to come out after they used a Holy Smite… But even he can't fight against that…"

"Anders, stop talking," Hawke chastised him, kneeling at the apostate's side. The blonde stared up at him, confusion furrowing his brow.

"If you're over there… Who's holding me?"

"That would be me," Fenris answered. A moment later, wide amber eyes were blinking at him, and he felt Anders' heart speed up slightly.

"Always knew… You'd come around…" Then the mage passed out, and Fenris felt a lump at the back of his throat as he looked at the pale, thin form he held.

"We need to get him back to the estate," the Elf said as he stood, carefully supporting the unconscious man in his arms. Why did Anders have to be so tall?

"Let's go before anyone else shows up," Isabella insisted, gently tugging on Merrill's arm. The rogue and Dalish went to the door, checking to make sure that there was no one there. However, they saw Lirene and a few other refugees outside, and the woman came over to them, hands clasped in prayer.

"Please, tell me he's all right."

"He will be, once he's had a few days rest. Don't worry, Hawke will protect him," Merrill told the woman, smiling at her. Lirene nodded, going back to tell the others about what had happened. As Fenris and Hawke exited the clinic, they all saw Anders and immediately went silent. Some started crying, others bowed their heads, and still others looked ready to march to the Gallows and declare war on the Templars. Once the Champion's group had left Darktown, the refugees dispersed to spread the news of the attack to rest of the city.

* * *

><p>Fenris had had trouble trying to get up the cellar stairs, and Hawke ended up taking Anders from him and marching silently up to the main floor. Fenris trudged behind him, his mind a mix of guilt, anger, and confusion. He had betrayed someone who cared about him to the people he feared above all else. Worse, it had been for all for nothing with the revelation that not only was Hawke not involved with the healer, but he also only liked women. The Elf shook his head, taking a deep breath to calm himself. There would be time to sort everything out later. For now, they needed to make sure Anders would recover. He felt a soft tug on his arm, and looked over to see Merrill. The girl was staring at him with concern and a slight bit of fear. Given his usual demeanor around her, that was to be expected. "Fenris, Hawke asked if you wanted to help him and Isabella get Anders washed up. She seems to think he's injured under all that dirt."<p>

"If only to make sure her hands do not wander where he wouldn't want them," the warrior replied with a heavy sigh. By the time he got to the washroom, the mage was only in his underclothes, and Hawke was gently lowering him into the large tub that Isabella was standing in. The Champion had taken off his gauntlets so as not to get them wet. Fenris noted with mild annoyance that the pirate was also only in her underclothes, but she looked up and winked at him.

"Strip down and help me wash him while Hawke keeps his head above water."

"Are you serious?" the Elf sputtered, turning crimson for a moment.

"Well, unless you feel like having your armor rust…"

"I do wear clothes underneath, Isabella," he retorted, unbuckling the chest plate and then tugging off his gauntlets.

"Such a shame too," she shot back. "I'd love to see you naked one day."

"Just not right now," Hawke added, rolling his eyes. By the time the Elf got in the tub with the mage and rogue, the water was slightly past his waist. While Hawke held Anders underneath his arms, Isabella took a soft cloth and gently began wiping away the dirt and dried blood that caked his torso. Fenris busied himself with checking for other injuries, such as broken bones, lacerations, or fresh bruises. At one point, he tilted the healer's head to check his temples, and Hawke snickered.

"What?" The question came out softer than he'd wanted, and the human shook his head and smiled.

"I've never seen you be so… Gentle."

"Injuring him further would be counter-productive."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Hawke, regardless of the revelations that have been thrown at me today, I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with the mage. We were both your companions, and that's where everything stopped."

"And so when he wakes up and tries to ask you about the letter, what are you going to say? Do you still feel that mages deserve what the Templars do to them? Do you believe that Anders deserved this?" Fenris swallowed painfully and looked away, his hand falling from where it had come to rest on the mage's arm.

"No. No one deserves that. Chained and helpless, waiting only for your "punishment". Praying that it will be swift, unlike every other time. Hoping that someone might save you this once, or at least spare you the worst of it…"

"Fenris!" Hawke's slightly-raised voice brought him out of the memory that was starting to form, and he subconsciously rubbed his wrists to get rid of the feeling of the shackles that had been placed on them so many times.

"My apologies… It's just that-"

"Andraste's flaming ass!" Isabella suddenly exclaimed, drawing their attention. Fenris saw her with the cloth, now bloody instead of just dirty. He noticed that the water around them was also tinged slightly red, and he watched the pirate put one hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "I can't… If you hadn't killed those Templars Hawke, I would for this. Get him out of the water so we can bandage that." Hawke obeyed, quickly pulling the limp form from the tub and placing it on a towel they'd laid out before. However, when he looked at Anders' torso, he went to his knees and turned away, hitting the floor with his fist. Fenris could stand it no longer, and hauled himself out of the tub; eyes immediately seeking whatever it was that had horrified his companions. But when he saw it, his mind took its time understanding what it was. The mage didn't have a gaping wound, but he was cut all across his stomach. The ones more towards his left side were still bleeding a bit, as if they were fresh. Had dirt been rubbed onto them for a reason? Maybe to hide them? No, probably to make sure they scarred. And the wounds looked deliberate, as if someone had done them with a purpose… One finger came up to trace the first mark, and then it moved to the second, his mind still not seeing whatever it was that- And then it hit him like punch in the head. He was tracing letters. Someone had carved a word into Anders, and Fenris felt his mouth run dry as his finger continued to show him the letters.

"A…P…O…S-" He cut himself off, even though his voice was only a whisper. His hands curled into fists, and anger seethed in him as he looked at the lyrium lines that had been branded into him. They had been meant to mark him, to show that he was and always would be a slave. Property. Danarius' pet. And now… Those Templars had tried to do something similar to Anders. To mark him as a reminder of what they saw him as. Of what he was and always would be…

Apostate.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The group was gathered in Anders' room at the estate, where the healer was still unconscious. The Champion, Isabella, and Fenris were all pacing back and forth. "Lethallin, please sit down," Merrill begged, walking over to her lover and taking his arm. "You won't solve this by wearing yourself out." The warrior started to protest, but Varric stood and walked over to him.

"Daisy's right, Hawke. I know it was a shock to see what they did to Blondie, but now we have work to do. Rivaini, you said they brought other mages down to the clinic to… Watch?" The Dwarf shook his head, looking over at the mage tucked under the blankets. Even in his sleep, Anders looked troubled.

"That's what the Templar said. Wanted to show them what might happen if they tried to escape." Aveline pushed away from where she'd been leaning on the wall.

"The refugees would never have told them anything. Which means either Anders has enemies we aren't aware of, or one of Hawke's found out about him."

"That's not very difficult," the dark-haired man told her. "Anders usually comes along on jobs, and I make no secret of my hatred for the Order."

"Well the Carta and Coterie don't play games like this. They'd send their own people to deal with problems, not armored Chantry-pets," Varric revealed.

"Varric, can you find out what happened?" Merrill asked. "With all your contacts, someone must have heard something." The storyteller pursed his lips and then smiled.

"That's not a bad idea, Daisy. I'm sure there was a raid order filed somewhere. All I'd need to do is get a copy and find out who any witnesses were."

"Then we go pay them a visit," Hawke said, cracking his knuckles.

"Or I haul them down to the barracks and we have an actual interrogation," Aveline added. Fenris stopped his pacing, staring at all of them. What if they found out? Had Cullen put down his name on that order? Would they kill him for betraying the mage? No doubt, if the harsh looks they all had were any indication.

"All right, we aren't going to do any good standing here," Hawke said after a moment. "But if anyone finds anything, let me know immediately."

"Will do, Hawke," Varric promised as he and Aveline headed out.

"We'll get the bastard that did this," the guard Captain vowed. Isabella sighed heavily, smiling when she saw Merrill embrace Hawke.

"Well, I think I'll just leave you lovebirds alone and head off to the Hanged Man. I'll stop by tomorrow, or sooner if I find anything."

"Isabella, Fenris is still here, so it's not like we're completely alone."

"I never said there were only two lovebirds, Kitten." As Fenris turned crimson, the pirate laughed and ran off. Hawke turned to the former slave, looking slightly embarrassed and apologetic.

"You know Isabella… Don't let her get to you."

"I won't. If you two… Wish to be alone, I will stay with the mage." Hawke raised an eyebrow, and Fenris scowled. "He should not awaken alone, is all I meant."

"Of course," the human replied, taking Merrill's hand and leading her out of the room. "If anything changes, let us know. Just… Knock first." When he was alone in the room, the Elf turned to the sleeping man, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Why… Why and how did you fall in love with me?" he asked softly. "We are nothing alike, and stand at opposite ends of a conflict that threatens to tear this city apart. You flaunt your magick, using it to… To help people. To help us. Were it not for that Demon inside you, I might not consider you dangerous. But… But even you did not deserve that. I never wanted…" He ran one hand tentatively through the loose blonde hair, feeling more alone than ever. "I did not see you when we first got into that room. I did not see you in the chains, blood and dirt on you. I did not see Templars around you, reveling in their foul deeds. No… I saw magisters. And I saw… Myself."

* * *

><p>Anders stirred, slowly pulling himself from the grasp of the Fade. His first sensation was that he was no longer standing, and that gave him some relief. He was also warm, which was a welcome change from being in the clinic at night. The clinic. The Templars. He sat up with a start, gasping and biting his lip as all the pain came back at once. As he dropped back onto the bed, he was dimly aware of someone next to him, hand on his shoulder. "Mage!" Well, that certainly didn't do anything to calm him. However, he chanced to open his eyes, and was greeted with the sight of dark-green eyes and tanned skin, framed by a mop of silver-white hair. Fenris. So he was safe. "Mage?" The Elf's voice was softer now, and Anders blinked a couple of times to chase away the last remnants of sleep. He still felt weary, which meant he was still under the effects of either the magebane or the smiting.<p>

"Where am I?" he asked, looking around as best he could.

"At Hawke's estate. Do you remember us freeing you?" The blonde furrowed his brow as the memories slowly flitted through his mind. He had a vague remembrance of the chains being undone, and then talking to the group. And being in Fenris' arms… But there were other memories that now assaulted him, and he cringed: Hearing banging on the door only a few minutes after Fenris had left, and having a squad of Templars rush in and immediately smite him. Being bound with chains and his coat and robe ripped off. The feeling of Justice trying to surface, only to be quelled when they forced a thick, purple liquid down his throat. The horrified looks he'd seen from the apprentice mages who'd been forced to watch his torture and humiliation. And throughout it all, the throbbing, red-hot pain that emanated from his abdomen…

"I remember," Anders replied, choking back a sob. Fenris saw the pained, haunted look in his eyes and realized that he meant everything that had happened to him as well.

"You are safe now," the Elf promised, once more placing a hand on the healer's shoulder. "Do you wish me to fetch Hawke?"

"No!" the blonde said more forcefully, shaking his head. "I don't want him to… I don't want anyone to see me like this…" He turned on his side, trying to curl up, but hissed in pain as his body protested the movement.

"Then do you wish me to leave?" Fenris stood, but then Anders shifted again, his hand moving lightning-quick to latch onto the Elf's wrist. The warrior froze, partially in surprise, but also to make sure he didn't detach the mage and hurt him further.

"Don't leave me alone." It was a soft, broken plea, and Fenris swallowed hard again. Anders' eyes met his once more, and he had to look away. There was too much pain. They were the eyes of a victim. It was the gaze of someone who had suffered untold abuses. He knew the look well, knowing he had given it to others countless times over the years. But this time, he had caused this look in another, even if indirectly.

"I… Will not leave you," he promised, sitting back on the bed. Anders let go of his wrist, holding his hand in front of his face and frowning. There was a red welt on his wrist from where the shackle had rubbed against his skin, and the mage shivered and closed his eyes. "You are safe," Fenris repeated, even as Anders nodded, eyes still closed.

"They were toying with me. Seeing what it might take to break me. They wanted to hear me scream. It's what they kept saying. "Just yell, and we'll stop. All you have to do is scream, and this will be over." But I couldn't. I wouldn't. Screaming would only have encouraged them. I knew that already…"

"You've been tortured before?" There was surprise in the Elf's voice, and the blonde opened his eyes, frowning a bit.

"In the Circle Tower. Templars tried to break me there too, but… I kept telling myself that I didn't care. Whatever they did to me only made me want to escape that much more. Made me try harder with every attempt."

"That's why you hate the Order so much?"

"No, that's only part of it. Mages shouldn't even be subjected to that in the first place. There should be no need to keep us so isolated and controlled. And since the Chantry just looks the other way when Templars abuse their power… It's an injustice that I can't stand anymore."

"Now you sound like your Demon." Anders' eyes flashed for a moment, but there was no glow that followed, and Fenris could not detect a shift in him like he normally did when Justice manifested.

"He's not a Demon. You just think that because you didn't know him before I changed him. It was my rage that altered him, my stupidity that cost me the one friend I had left." The mage sat up, bracing himself with his arms until he was eye-level with the Elf. "I'm the reason he lost himself. And no matter how many people I heal, how many mages I help escape, and how many Templars I take down, I will never be able to atone for what I did to him." Fenris' eyes went wide. Anders blamed himself for everything? And he believed that he could never make up for it? This wasn't the same Anders he would consistently get into arguments over. This wasn't the mage who defied every law and sometimes common sense to see mages and the oppressed freed. This… This was a man who had endured so much, but had been somehow broken along the way, despite the façade he showed to the world. A man like… Fenris himself.

"Don't exert yourself," he chastised softly after the initial shock wore off. He gently pressed on Anders' shoulder until the healer relented and lay back down.

"What did they do to me?" he finally asked, taking a deep breath. He could feel bandages beneath the shirt he was wearing, and pressed one hand against them. Whatever wounds were beneath them were still throbbing slightly, which meant they were infected. One more thing he needed to take care of once his magick returned.

"You will find out in time. Telling you now will not make them heal faster."

"Fenris, I need to know. Please just tell me." The Elf shook his head, looking bothered by something.

"You need to rest to regain your strength. Perhaps tomorrow, if you're feeling better, I will tell you." Anders sighed heavily, but nodded. "Now then, you should probably eat something. Orana is a good cook, from what I hear."

"That she is. Maybe later though. I'm still tired."

"Then rest." Anders closed his eyes for a moment, but then they snapped open again, fear clearly in them.

"You'll stay?" he asked softly. Fenris could not bring himself to argue, and nodded, resting his hand on the mage's slightly-fevered brow.

"I will stay," he promised. The healer closed his eyes again, and the Elf sat back, wondering how exactly he'd gotten himself into this.

"You're not as surly as you make yourself out to be," Merrill said from the door, startling the warrior. He turned to face her, eyes wide, but she merely smiled back. "I won't tell a soul about this, I promise."

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that he needs food. Maybe some soup will do. Orana will know just what to make." The Dalish started to turn away, but then looked at Fenris, concern on her face. "Fenris, when we find the person who did this, are you going to… You know, that thing you do to bad people?" He gave her a puzzled look.

"Crush their heart?"

"That's it!" The former slave shook his head, looking back at the mage.

"There is no need. The others will no doubt leave little remaining once their rage is sated." She nodded, leaving him alone again. "I doubt there would be much left of my heart to crush after this, anyway," he mused, hand idly playing with Anders' hair again.

* * *

><p>Anders' eyes snapped open as a faint sound reached his ears. The room was dark, and he had no way of knowing what time it was. The noises seemed to be coming from next to him, and he let his eyes adjust to the darkness for a few minutes. What he saw sent his heart racing: Fenris was sitting in a chair next to the bed, a blanket draped over him. But the Elf seemed to be having a nightmare, and his entire body twitched, even as soft whimpers escaped him. Sitting up carefully, the mage reached out a cautious hand to the warrior, gripping his arm through the blanket. "Fenris," he whispered. There was no answer, but he could feel the limb shudder beneath his touch. "Fenris, wake up!" he said louder, but still to no avail. Anders sighed, gritting his teeth as he moved to kneel on the bed, his hand now resting against the Elf's cheek. Calling up what little magick he'd managed to regenerate, he cast a calming spell over the sleeping form. However, the lyrium brands reacted to the touch of magick, and flared to life, shining even through the blanket. Fenris' eyes snapped open, he grabbed the mage's arm, and Anders bit back a yell of pain and surprise as he found himself pinned against the bed. A moment later, the former slave blinked at him, apparently realizing where he was.<p>

"Mage, what-" Fenris' gaze focused first on his hands, holding Anders' wrists pinned above his head. He also had one knee planted in the mage's stomach, the other leg braced against the floor. The warrior let go and leapt back, watching as the blonde took a deep, shuddering breath. "My apologies. Have I hurt you further?"

"I'm all right," Anders replied, a bit breathless. But Fenris saw one hand come up to press against the bandages, the other laying flat against his chest. Even from a few feet away, the Elf could hear the rapid beating of the healer's heart.

"Do not lie, mage. It does you no good. You are not "all right", no matter how much you say you are."

"You just startled me, is all. I don't think you ripped anything open, so I'll call that a good thing."

"Why did you wake me? And with magick of all things?" Anders shifted, a pained expression briefly crossing his face. With the initial shock over with, the light from the lyrium brands was fading to a dim glow, but Fenris did not need much light to see by. After a moment, the mage spoke, but so softly that he had to strain to hear it.

"You were dreaming, but it looked like more a nightmare. I called your name, but you didn't respond. So I wanted to try and calm you down; give you a more peaceful sleep. I didn't realize your marks reacted to all types of magick."

"You've only ever used healing spells on me, but that is usually when I am conscious enough to keep them controlled. Magick does something to them: Makes them glow unless I force it down. But… Thank you for waking me."

"What were you dreaming about?" Fenris shook his head, sitting in the chair once more and picking up the blanket.

"Nothing I wish to talk about now. There is a lot in my past that I am not proud of, and this was a particularly harsh memory." Anders nodded, having hoped that the Elf might confide in him a little, but realizing that would probably never happen. "Has your magick returned then, if you used some to try and help me?"

"Just the little bit I used on you." The warrior frowned, shaking his head.

"You could have healed yourself, even if only a little. Why concern yourself with me?" It was silent in the room for a moment, and then Anders snickered.

"You are my concern," he told the slightly-stunned man. "While the rational part of my mind was saying to heal myself, the healer in me was saying that I needed to help you. My wounds aren't life-threatening, and you were in greater need at the time."

"But-"

"Fenris, even if we don't always agree, or even if we get into arguments, we're all on the same team. Nothing you've done or said makes me think you're a bad person, just biased and mistrusting of mages from what your master did to you. And my oath as a healer has it ingrained in me that I help those that need it, whenever they need it."

"Even with your injuries, your first thought was to help me?"

"Exactly." Silence once more descended on the room, and finally Fenris spoke:

"Mage… Thank you. Hopefully your magick returns in full tomorrow, and you can heal yourself. I'd like to put this whole mess behind us."

"Me too." Anders once more snuggled back under the covers, smiling slightly to himself. "Fenris… Thank you for staying with me. It means a lot to know I have a friendly face to wake up to." He drifted off to sleep, unable to see the guilt written across the Elf's face. Tomorrow, Fenris would tell Anders what had really happened, and pray that both the healer and the Demon inside him didn't decide to take revenge on him right there. Sleep was long in coming to him, but at least this time, it was peaceful.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Morning came sooner than Fenris wanted, but the sun was annoying enough even through his closed eyes that he finally relented and opened them. Anders was still asleep, and seemed somewhat more relaxed than he had the day before. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth, and his hair lay on the pillow like a golden halo. One hand was lying across his chest, and the other was up near his head, fingers curled inward. The Elf felt a sense of peace as he stared at the mage, and then Anders started to stir. He blinked a few times and turned his head, blushing slightly when he realized he was being watched. "Good morning," he said, stretching for a moment and looking for all the world like a large cat. The mage sat up carefully, sucking in a quick breath as his muscles resisted, but eventually got upright.

"How are you feeling?" Fenris inwardly cursed himself for sounding so pathetically concerned. The blonde gave him a wry smile and shrugged.

"Better than yesterday. I've got some of my magick back. And apparently Justice is going through a list of how he wants to destroy the Templars who did this."

"There is no need. Hawke got them all." But Anders shook his head.

"No, the Captain they had with them left when they brought the apprentices in. He and one of his subordinates." The Elf was stunned, and sat there with his mouth slightly agape. They had brought in other Templars? They had… Changed shifts, so to speak?

"Are you certain?" he managed to stammer out.

"Unfortunately. I remember hearing the name Humphries, but I don't know if that was the Captain. Got hard to think after a while."

"The Templar that we… Questioned mentioned someone by that name as well. If we tell Hawke about this, he will only wish to march to the Gallows and start bashing heads until we find this man." Anders looked down for a moment, then shook his head and quietly chuckled. The thought of Hawke striding into the Gallows, clad in his Champion armor, sword out, and cutting through Templars like a farmer cuts through wheat made him giddy. Justice liked the idea too, though the Spirit also wanted to make sure that he was beside Hawke doing some of the fighting as well. However, a dull ache from under the bandages made him realize that unless he could fix whatever damage had been done to him, he wasn't going to be fighting anything anytime soon.

"Fenris, can you pull me up?" he asked, extending a hand to the Elf, who looked at him with concern.

"Are you sure that is wise?"

"I'm not going far. I just need to get these bandages off, and standing will make that easier." He saw the warrior start to say something, but then he sighed heavily.

"I must warn you: The wounds will not be easy for you to see."

"They don't feel small." Fenris frowned and shook his head.

"You will understand soon enough." Then, from the half-open door, they heard Varric and Hawke talking downstairs. Fenris couldn't make out any words, but fear suddenly clutched at his heart.

"Fenris, are you all right? You just went white." The concern in Anders' voice made the fear turn once more to a vice of guilt, and the Elf hauled the mage to his feet, placing his hands on his shoulders.

"I am sorry for this," he whispered, bringing one hand under the borrowed shirt and easily tearing through the bandages with one pull of his talons. Anders' eyes went wide as he heard the cloth tear, and as it fell to the floor the Elf stepped back, hanging his head. Immediately, the mage lifted the shirt, staring in confusion at the deep lacerations in his stomach. They looked to have been carved with a purpose, and he looked once more at Fenris, not understanding what had been done to him.

"Fenris-"

"Those marks were covered with dirt when we found you, and we can only guess that it was to make them scar. You… I believe they meant to show you before they brought you before Meredith. To try and break you one last time."

"I don't understand." Anders walked over to the mirror by the door, staring at the wounds and trying to see- And then his mind flipped the picture on him. What had been confusing for a few moments now was suddenly crystal clear. And as his brain traced the letters and finished the word, the ex-Warden dropped to his knees, a wordless cry escaping his mouth. Fenris made to go to him, when Hawke and Varric thundered up the stairs. The human's face was twisted in rage and grief, and the Elf's eyes widened in shock. He'd only seen that look on Hawke once before: When he was attacking the mage who had murdered and mutilated his mother.

"You lying **bastard**!" Hawke shouted, closing the distance quickly and grabbing the Elf around the throat. Fenris felt his back get slammed into the wall, and he grunted in both pain and surprise. The mage was also startled, and stared at his friend.

"Hawke, what-"

"You betrayed him! And then you stood there like you had no idea! How could you? He trusted you! We all trusted you!" Varric was behind him, a piece of paper clutched so tightly in his gloved hand that the leather was creaking.

"You sold Blondie out! What could you possibly have gained from that?" the Dwarf demanded. Fenris wasn't thinking of a response, but was simply trying to breathe. He had both hands clasped around Hawke's arm, but he made no move to hurt the human. Instead, his attention was focused solely on Anders. Shock was clear on his face, his body having gone rigid, yet still. His arms were wrapped around his torso, and his breathing was coming in shallow gasps.

"It was you?" he finally whispered. "You… Led them to me?"

"It was him all right. Cullen put down his name on the witness line, with a note saying he would also keep me from interfering until they were done with you." Hawke's golden eyes were narrowed at the Elf, who had ceased his struggles, but still managed to meet the Champion's gaze, albeit with some emotion in his eyes that Hawke couldn't quite place. However, he didn't have time to contemplate it, as he felt a shift in the room that could only signal one thing. Fenris' markings flared as Anders dropped his head in his hands, cracks of bright blue light beginning to shine through on his skin.

"You… Betrayed me… You let them… Hurt me… You-" Justice manifested in an explosion of light and energy, throwing them all off their feet. He rose slowly, glowing eyes fixed on the Elf, and a snarl curled his lip.

"**You traitor**!" he screamed, spirit fire burning brightly around his form. Along with the usual veins and cracks, the marks the Templars had given Anders now stood outlined as well, glowing brightly beneath the shirt. Varric had Bianca out and trained on him just in case, and Hawke had gone still. No one knew what the Spirit was going to do, but he sounded rather upset. And that wasn't good. "**You wished for this? You wanted him to suffer?**"

"I never wanted this!" Fenris yelled back, regaining his feet. "I never thought they would torture him, or use him as a… A tool to show others!"

"**Then you are a fool!**" Justice shot back, eyes narrowing. "**I will protect him from you and the Templars. I will see them all burn!**"

"Not good!" Varric said, looking over at Hawke. The human scrambled to his feet, getting in front of the Spirit and hoping he could calm him down like he had in the tunnels after the Ser Alrik incident.

"Justice, calm down! You must-"

"**Out of my way!**" The Spirit charged, and Hawke instinctively dove to the side. However, he hadn't been planning on Justice trying to escape, which is what happened. The window on the far wall shattered as the Spirit jumped through it, landing in the courtyard below and taking off down the street. There was a random expletive from a patrol of guards, and then shouts of:

"Champion! Champion, can you hear us?"

"Andraste's flaming sword, can this day get any worse?" Hawke demanded, starting for the door. However, Varric put a hand on his arm, motioning to the shocked Elf standing by the broken window.

"Deal with him. I'll handle the guards and put the word out that we've got a glowing mage on the loose." The Dwarf left, and then Hawke grabbed Fenris' arm and spun him around, delivering a nasty right hook to the former slave's jaw.

"This is your fault!" he screamed as Fenris wiped the blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood, but a punch to the chest sent him reeling back against the wall, and then Hawke once again had a hand around his throat. "I should kill you!"

"Then do it!" he gasped out, glaring defiantly at the other warrior. "If your anger at me is so raw, stop talking about it and **do it**!" Fenris saw the arm go back, and knew Hawke was getting ready for another punch. But then Merrill was in the door, hands over her mouth as she quickly took stock of the situation.

"Lethallin, stop!" she commanded, racing into the room and latching onto his arm. "Hurting him won't help now!"

"The hell it won't!" Hawke shot back, not looking at her. "This bastard needs to be taught a lesson as to why we don't betray friends."

"Hawke, trust me: He's already learned that." Merrill's voice was quiet, yet firm, and the dark-haired warrior turned his head to meet her eyes. "You didn't see him yesterday, talking to Anders. You didn't see the pain in his eyes. Yes, what he did was wrong, but beating him won't bring Anders back any faster." After a minute of tense silence, Fenris felt the hand holding his neck loosen. Hawke dropped his arm, pressing his palms to his forehead for a moment to calm himself.

"Thank you, Merrill," Fenris said softly, feeling slightly raspy. The Dalish turned cold eyes on him and shook her head.

"Don't thank me. You hurt Anders worse than those Templars did, and you need to help fix this."

"Have everyone search the city. Varric and Isabella can hit Darktown, you and I will search Hightown, and I'll have Aveline check the Gallows just in case."

"That leaves Lowtown."

"I will search there," Fenris volunteered, though he assumed that had been the human's plan anyway.

"We need to find him before word gets back to the Templars that he's still alive." As the white-haired Elf made to leave the room, Hawke caught his arm. "And Fenris, if I find so much as a hair out of place on him, I will toss you down the deepest pit I can find after beating you bloody senseless."

"Noted." Then he was off and running towards Lowtown, praying that one of them found the mage before the Spirit could get him into more trouble…

* * *

><p>It was hours later, and Fenris leaned heavily against a building, going over and over his route through Lowtown in his mind. After nearly seven years in Kirkwall, he'd built up a decent internal map of the city, and right now he was hoping he'd either missed an alley or a side street. There'd been no sign of Anders anywhere, and everyone he'd talked to had expressed concern for the mage's safety, but hadn't seen him. There was little else to do but return to Hawke's estate and hope that the others had had better luck. He turned, glancing up at the sign hanging above his head. "Lirene's Shop: For all your Ferelden needs." His eyes widened as he remembered that Lirene was the one who knew all the refugees both in Darktown and the city proper. If anyone had heard word of Anders, it would be her. He opened the door, seeing the shop empty, and no one in the front. "Hello?" he called cautiously, walking in and shutting the door behind him. There was no immediate answer, and Fenris drew his sword just in case. While it was possible the Templars had raided this place, nothing seemed overturned, and there were no bloodstains either on the floor or walls. He crept across the floor towards a side room, and then soft footsteps caught his attention. Lirene came out from the back, a cast iron pan in her hands. When she saw the Elf she blinked, and then sighed in relief.<p>

"I thought you were Templars," she confessed, setting the pan down. "Are you here for Anders?" Fenris sheathed his sword and breathed his own relieved sigh.

"He is here? Is he all right?" The woman frowned and shook her head.

"He's here, but he's far from all right. One of my girls found him in an alley, curled up and slightly delirious. We've got him in the back, but he just keeps tossing and turning, mumbling about being betrayed. I admit, he's got me worried. I've never seen Anders like this before." The Elf swallowed hard and nodded.

"Please, take me to him." Lirene nodded and motioned for him to follow. In a small room that was probably a spare storage room, Anders lay on a thin mattress, a threadbare blanket thrown over him. He was hopelessly tangled up in it, and kept rolling from side to side, eyes squeezed tightly shut and mumbling.

"Please help him, messere. Only one of his friends can, I think." Then she shut the door, leaving the two men alone. Fenris stared at the healer for a minute, wondering just what he was supposed to do. Finally, he chanced physical contact, laying a hand on Anders' shoulder and shaking it.

"Mage," he said softly. Anders stilled, but his eyes didn't open, and the quiet murmuring didn't cease. The Elf bent his head until his hear was right over the mage's mouth, and he stiffened as he caught a few words.

"Betrayed…. Friend…. Broken….Sorry….Vengeance…."

"Mage!" he shouted, grabbing the taller man by the shoulders and hauling him into a sitting position. Anders' eyes snapped open, but they were glazed over at first. However, they soon came into focus, and he pulled back with more force than Fenris thought possible, slamming against the opposite wall and putting his arms up like he expected to be attacked.

"No, don't hurt me!" he begged. "I don't want to hurt any more!" He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then a sob tore from his chest, and he coughed. "I'll do whatever you want. Just please… Please make it stop." Fenris stared at him, forgetting to breathe for a moment. No, this was definitely not what he had wanted. In between Hawke telling him that Fenris had betrayed him and Justice coming out, something inside the mage had broken. Something the Templars had never been able to do, Fenris had done, and with only a simple, stupid sentence. The Elf sat down hard on the floor, staring at the now-crying mage in front of him. He drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, feeling like his heart was going to tear itself out of his chest. As he went to put his head down, he saw the marks on his arm, and bit back his own sob. They had both been abused and tortured by those in power over them. They had both been marked by those same people, in some twisted attempt to squash their souls. And as Fenris let the memories overtake him, a small part of his mind realized the answer to his dilemma. But… Was he strong enough to become that again? One quick look at the mage, and the answer was: It didn't matter. Anders needed a friend. A true friend who had gone through similar things. Someone he could relate to, and who could get him to calm down. Fenris pulled off his gauntlets, laying them carefully aside. Then he undid his sheath and unbuckled his armor. All of that he put into a pile, and then sat there in his leggings and jerkin, willing his heart to slow down as he stared at his markings. He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. Slowly, he stretched a hand towards Anders, who flinched away.

"I won't hurt you," the Elf said, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I'm Leto. What's your name?" The mage blinked, confused for a moment. But then he slowly lowered his arms, tilting his head.

"Anders," he replied in almost the same tone. "So… What's your story?"

"I'm a slave to a powerful magister. Ever heard of Danarius?"

"No, can't say I have. What's he like?"

"He gave me these markings so I could serve him better. I don't know what they do, but I know that the ritual that gave them to me was the most painful thing I've ever endured. So much that I can barely remember who I was before."

"That's awful!" Anders exclaimed, eyes wide.

"What about you?"

"Oh… I'm just another mage in the Circle. I passed my Harrowing, but the Templars still bother me."

"What's a Harrowing?"

"They don't have them in Tevinter?"

"Not that I know of," the Elf replied with a slight shrug. "But I'm not really allowed to know what goes on behind closed doors."

"Well the Harrowing is when they take an apprentice, make them enter the Fade alone, and fight a Demon. It's to prove that we won't be tempted by power, and the only way we're considered "safe". They still keep us locked up afterwards, though."

"But… Have you any training to fight a Demon? Any weapons?" Anders sighed and shook his head, plucking at his shirt.

"Just your mind and your magick. If you fail, you become an abomination, and the Templars kill you. And if you take too long, they assume you failed… And kill you." The Elf was stunned by all this, and moved a little closer to the mage. The blonde looked up at him, but didn't react otherwise.

"But you passed. That must make you very powerful."

"Not really. It just meant I was lucky. I know that a Demon's promise is always empty, and blood magick never appealed to me anyway."

"That's mostly what the magisters use. I've never known one who wasn't a blood mage. It's supposed to make them more powerful."

"Lies," Anders shot back, frowning. "Power comes from knowing your magick, and having it be an extension of you. That's why I like healing. It makes me feel like I'm making the world just a little better."

"But you know other magick still, right?"

"All mages know basic offensive and defensive spells. It's knowing when to really use them that sets you apart. Just like a warrior and his weapon."

"Knowing when to use your strength and skill is just as important as knowing how. I learned that from the Fog Warriors."

"The who?"

"Qunari. They rescued me in Seheron. I learned a lot from them…" Fenris swallowed hard as the memory of his betrayal of them fought to surface. He shook his head, and then a hand was on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Anders only a foot away. The mage looked concerned, and then his hand rested on the Elf's cheek, and Fenris leaned into the touch.

"You've been through a lot."

"So have you. I… I never realized how similar we are." There was a moment of silence, and then Anders removed his hand, pressing it against the shirt where he'd been marked. The warrior saw that there was some blood seeping through the cloth, but not enough to overly alarm him.

"Why did they do this to me?" the mage asked, turning his face away. Fenris reached out a tentative hand and wrapped it around the man's shoulders, pulling him gently away from the wall until he was sitting with his back pressed to the Elf's chest. Fenris' other hand rested lightly over Anders' where it lay on the shirt.

"Because they think they have power. But they don't. They are weak, pathetic fools who couldn't find their way out of an alley, much less face a Demon in the Fade."

"You don't think I'm weak for letting them get to me?"

"Not any more." Anders shivered in his arms, turning slightly to bury his head in the crook of the Elf's neck. He wrapped his arms around the mage, holding him tightly and letting him quietly cry on his shoulder. After a little while, Anders sat up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, a smile beginning to quirk his mouth.

"I'm cold… Can we go home now?"

"Of course. Let me get dressed, and then I'll help you stand." Anders sat in silence as the warrior stood and donned his armor and sword once more. Then he pulled the blonde to his feet, steadying him when he wobbled a little. But instead of moving right away, Anders hugged him tight.

"Thank you, Fenris. Thank you for being there for me."

"You would say that even after I was the reason you were in that state?"

"I don't know why you did what you did, but… You must have had a reason." Fenris smiled wryly and sighed.

"A stupid one. I though that letter you'd written had come from Hawke, and then when I saw you two in the study…" The mage blinked, and then grinned.

"That's why you asked if I was in love with him. I didn't know you fancied Hawke. I guess we both made mistakes with how we handled this."

"My mistake could have cost you your life. I… I know I do not deserve it, but one day I shall earn your forgiveness." Anders smiled, his eyes lighting up slightly.

"I can't say I completely forgive you, but this is a good start." They shared a smile, until Lirene's shout reached their ears:

"Get out, you filthy thugs! He's not here!"

"Templars," Fenris growled, eyes shifting to the door. Anders rolled his eyes.

"Wonderful, and I still don't have my magick back fully." The Elf went to the door, pushing it open slowly. He saw a small squad in the main part of the shop, and one was trying to intimidate Lirene by towering over her. However, the woman was not so easily frightened.

"Then remain out of sight. I will deal with them."

"Fenris, please be careful." The Elf was gone a moment later, and Anders watched as he just sort of appeared next to Lirene, throwing the Templar in front of her on his ass. The woman took the opportunity to escape.

"Now then, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way," Fenris told the men, one hand on the hilt of his sword. "One way has you all walking out of here alive."

"Get him!" the lead Templar commanded. The Elf shrugged, lyrium brands flaring to life as he smirked and drew the blade.

"Good. I never did like the easy way."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

As the four armored men drew their weapons and advanced on the Elf, he realized that the room was going to be too small to properly take them on. Phasing out he, headed for the door, hearing the swearing behind him as the Templars momentarily lost sight of him. "Gentleman," he called out, "Looking for me?"

"Hold still, you damn mage!" Fenris raised an eyebrow, opening the door and stepping backwards through it.

"I will soon prove how foolish that statement was." The men followed, and once they were all through the door, the warrior attacked. He flashed, slashed, and hacked at the squad, grinning as more blood coated his sword, and more screams rang out. He was so focused on the ones in front of him, that he failed to see the squad that had come upon the fight. He felt something heavy smash into his back, and the wind was knocked out of him. Fenris fell to the ground, trying to get air back into his lungs. Now the eight Templars stood together, the unharmed ones helping the others up.

"Fenris!" Anders called out, standing in the doorway. Lirene was at his side, tugging on his arm.

"Please Anders, you must run!" she begged him.

"I'm not leaving him like that!" The Templar who had first talked to Lirene bent over the Elf, removing his helmet as he did so. Black hair stuck to his forehead, and his dark eyes were slightly crazed.

"Should we kill your little friend first to teach you a lesson? He proved to be very resilient last time we got our hands on him, thanks to you. Did you have a change of heart, Elf? Or maybe the little mage cast some sort of spell on you. He is rather attractive, isn't he? Maybe I'll have him be my little pet after Meredith makes him Tranquil." Ah, so this must be Ser Humphries. Good to know who his main target was.

"You will not touch him," Fenris vowed, eyes narrowed. He stood slowly, feeling his back throb painfully. It wasn't broken, but the heavy mace he'd been struck with had done some damage.

"And who's going to stop me?" At that moment, a dagger, a crossbow bolt, and a spike of rock sailed past Fenris' head, hitting three separate targets, who all went down.

"We will," Hawke said, coming up to stand at the Elf's side. Merrill was next to him, and Isabella stood on Fenris' other side, grinning down at Varric.

"Are we just in time for the party?" the pirate wondered, one hand on her hip.

"Seems like they've been softened up," Varric commented, looking over at Fenris. Hawke pointed his weapon at Ser Humphries, eyes narrowed.

"You are going to regret coming here."

"Hawke-"

"Save it, Fenris. We saw you fighting them. I still want to have a chat, but that can wait until they're dead and Anders is safe at the estate."

"Understood, but leave the leader for me." There was an undercurrent of anger in the former slave's voice, and Hawke nodded. He wasn't sure what had happened, but right now he just wanted to kill things.

"Champion, you are interfering in official Chantry business!" Ser Humphries told him, shaking his head. "In the name of the Maker-"

"Charge!" The Templars were momentarily stunned by the command, but Hawke's group wasted no time in following the order. Fenris only had eyes for Ser Humphries, paying little attention to what the others were doing. The Templar brought his sword up just in time to block a vicious overhead swing.

"Did I strike a nerve?" he wondered, sneering. "I thought you hated that mage?"

"You thought wrong." A few more blows were traded, and Fenris knew his back was not going to allow him to continue for much longer.

"You would dare defy the Order for one man?"

"He did not deserve what you did to him. Wielding magick does not mean you can torture them for fun!"

"Call it a privilege of the job."

"I call it abuse of power." With one last surge of strength, Fenris knocked the sword from the Templar's grasp, pinning him against the wall of a building, the tip of his sword held to the man's throat. "You will die here for your crimes."

"So then kill me!" But the Elf shook his head, hearing the sounds of battle cease. The group came over, and Hawke stood at his side, arms folded across his chest.

"Finish him off," the human told him.

"He is not mine to finish. Anders, come here." The group all stared in shock at Fenris, and the healer couldn't find his voice for a moment.

"Did you actually use Blondie's name?" Varric asked.

"I did," Fenris replied with a nod. "This Templar was the one responsible for the pain he suffered. It is only right that he be the one to finish him."

"Anders," Hawke said, turning to face the mage. "Is that what you want?" He walked slowly over to the group, Lirene at his side to make sure he didn't topple over.

"I… I don't know. Fenris, why me?"

"Because it might give you some closure. It is the same reason that I want to kill Danarius, should he ever show his face here. It is the ending that most victims never get."

"He's got a point," Isabella pointed out. "And he is a Templar, to boot."

"Justice should get a kick out of this, then," Hawke mused.

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of. But… You're right. This is something I should do." The mage walked over to the Templar, who still had a sword at his throat. Varric now pointed Bianca at him as well, in case he got any ideas. Anders met the man's eyes, searching for something to say. Finally, he settled for "Why?"

"Why what, apostate?"

"Why did you hurt me like that? Why did you bring other mages down there and make them watch? What makes you think that it was acceptable to do that?" Ser Humphries scoffed, narrowing his eyes.

"You mages disgust me! You think that just because you wield magick that it makes you better than us! Well it doesn't! The Maker gave us the ability to take your magick, which means that it's a curse rather than a gift. You mages should be praising our vigilance, for without Templars-"

"**Enough**!" Justice thundered as he manifested. Ser Humphries' eyes widened, and his mouth fell open.

"Abom- Abomina-" There was a sound of metal giving way, followed by the wet squelch of flesh being rendered. Justice had his arm plunged into the Templar's chest, and he poured spirit energy into the wound. Ser Humphries screamed, only to be silenced by a glowing hand over his mouth. Eyes that looked like lyrium stared at him, but the face was emotionless as the Spirit watched him die.

"**Return to the Maker you claim to serve. Perhaps he will judge you worthy. I do not.**" Justice pulled his arm, now covered in blood to the elbow, from the gaping wound in Ser Humphries' chest. As the Templar dropped to the ground, Anders resumed control of his body. He swayed on his feet, and both Hawke and Fenris steadied him. The mage closed his eyes, shaking his head, one hand over his mouth as he fought to breathe. The blood-covered arm was shaking slightly as he dropped it to his side.

"He doesn't look so good," Varric pointed out, taking a few steps back. A moment later, Anders pulled away from the two men and was sick in the corner. Fenris knelt next to him, waiting until the healer sat back with a choked sob.

"Are you all right?"

"How can you do that?" The question confused the Elf.

"Do what?"

"Stick your hand in someone and touch their heart. Feel it beating against your hand, and then just… Destroy it. And you do it so calmly…"

"Because it is something I was trained to do. Kill without mercy, wound without regret. Follow orders and never question them." Fenris looked away for a moment and sighed. "You are the only one to ever get under my skin in that regard."

"Oh." Anders' voice was soft, and he looked down at his hand and frowned. "I need to wash up."

"Then let's get you back to the estate," Hawke said as he came over. He pulled the mage to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist. "No more escape attempts, all right," he teased, smiling slightly. Anders chuckled and nodded.

"I think I can manage that for a bit."

"Hawke, you do know that the Templars probably aren't going to give up on him so easily, right?" the Dwarf reminded the warrior. Hawke sighed heavily.

"Well, then what say we pay our dear little Knight Captain a visit?" Isabella suggested as she wiped off her daggers.

"But what do we say to him?" Merrill wondered. Looks passed over the group, and then Hawke's face broke into an evil grin.

"How about that either he forgets the whole thing, or he's next."

"Hawke, you are a very scary man," Anders told him, shivering slightly.

"I know." He started walking, then stopped and looked back at Fenris. "Are you coming, or should I find you at the mansion later?"

"You… Wish me to be at your home?" He couldn't keep the surprise off his face or out of his voice.

"As I said, we still need to have a little chat. But… I'm not going to kill you. When Lirene sent word that you were helping Anders… I didn't believe it at first. But seeing you taking on those Templars made me reconsider."

"Suffice to say, you're at least out of the fire. Now you just need to deal with the frying pan," Isabella added. Fenris nodded, a small smile on his face for a moment.

"I can deal with that."

"Then can we please go home now?" Anders wondered.

"Come on, we have a patient to tend to," Merrill told her lover, as Anders quirked an eyebrow at her. The others fell into step behind them, heading back to Hightown.

* * *

><p>Knight Captain Cullen was going over some paperwork, wondering how the situation had gotten so completely out of control. The Champion had killed a squad of younger Templars, the mage they'd been sent to retrieve was missing, and two entire squads of Templars had been found dead in Lowtown two days ago, Captain Humphries among them. No one was talking, and Meredith was breathing down his neck to put the matter to rest. A knock sounded on his door, and he looked up. "Enter if you must," he said, clearly irritated. The door opened, and Captain Thrask walked in, followed by the Champion. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Cullen wondered, sarcasm clear in his voice. Hawke merely smirked and stepped to the side, allowing the two other people with him into the room. One was the Elf who had first come to turn in Anders, and the second… Was the apostate himself, who closed the door behind him. "What is-"<p>

"The meaning of this?" Hawke finished for him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just thought we might have a little chat, Cullen. About you authorizing a raid that didn't go quite as planned."

"A raid that one of your companions helped me set up, need I remind you!" Thrask raised an eyebrow as Cullen stood, but Fenris stepped in front of the Ferelden.

"Your men broke their word, Captain. Not only that, they tortured Anders merely because he was a mage."

"Torture? What are you talking about?"

"Oh please, Cullen, no one's that stupid," Hawke shot back. "You didn't think something was wrong when they didn't come back all day? Not only that, but they also took apprentice mages from the Gallows and brought them to Darktown to make them watch Anders' torture." All the color drained from Cullen's face.

"They… Did what?"

"Torture. I think you're well acquainted with the word," Anders said, stepping forward. "I've heard stories of what happened to you at the Tower, Cullen. But tell me, do you think this was really necessary?" He swiftly undid his jacket and opened his robe, showing the scarred letters there. There had been too much infection for him to completely heal the marks, and he tensed when he saw both Templars stare at them.

"Andraste's blood!" Thrask swore, turning away quickly. Cullen looked from the marks to Anders' face, then back down.

"They did that to you?"

"Well I didn't bloody do it to myself!" The healer covered the scars again, leaning against the wall for a moment. "Your men are out of control."

"I… I can agree that that was uncalled for."

"Is that all?" Fenris sneered, rolling his eyes. "Uncalled for? That is clear abuse of power! Those Templars fancied themselves above the law, convinced that the Maker was on their side simply because of the insignia they wore!"

"Like the magisters of Tevinter?" Hawke asked pointedly.

"Exactly so," the Elf agreed, hands curling into fists. Cullen sat down at his desk, still in shock over what he'd seen.

"What would you have me do then?"

"No Templars are to be seen in Darktown. Ever. And Anders is to be left alone. He is under my direct protection," the Champion explained.

"You can't possibly expect me to agree to that! He's an apostate!"

"He is a Warden," Fenris argued. "And they are outside the reach of the Chantry."

"Cullen, listen to the Champion," Thrask implored. "We do not want him as our enemy any more than he already is." Hawke gave the red-haired man a wry grin. Truth be told, Thrask was the only Templar he liked, now that Emeric was dead.

"Yes, you make a valid point," Cullen agreed. "I promise you that my men will leave both Anders and Darktown alone, or they will answer to me."

"Thank you," Hawke said with a mock bow. "And now, we will take our leave." He turned tugged on Anders' arm, and the mage fell into step behind him. As Fenris made to leave, Cullen cleared his throat, and he stopped.

"You had second thoughts, I take it?" The Elf shook his head.

"No. I kept my end of the agreement, but your men did not. However, I must thank you for that. You have opened my eyes, and for that I am grateful. But do not think to cross either me or Hawke. If any harm comes to the mage, I will come for you." Then he was gone, and Cullen shivered in his armor. Thrask gave him a sympathetic look.

"Have you ever wondered if we're on the wrong side?" he asked.

"I do now…"

* * *

><p>Fenris was sitting in his room a few weeks later, drinking alone. Though Hawke at least talked to him, their relationship had been pushed to its limits, and the human no longer came to share stories and drinks with him. However, since Anders at least talked to him, Isabella, Merrill, and Varric seemed to be more willing to give him a second chance. He heard the front door open, and soft voices reached his ears. Going to the top of the stairs, he saw Anders and Isabella walking in, the pirate with a two bottles in her arms. "Care for some company?" she called up. He smiled slightly and nodded. They came up, and he leaned against the mantle as Isabella uncorked one of her bottles and took a deep drink, handing it to the mage, who just shook his head.<p>

"What brings you here?" Fenris wondered, looking more at Anders as he spoke.

"Well, Hawke and Merrill said they didn't want to be disturbed, and I didn't feel like going to the Hanged Man, so Isabella thought we'd drop in."

"I appreciate it."

"You know, you could stop by the Hanged Man more often," the pirate told him. "I still don't know why you stay in this drafty place."

"Maybe I like the view," he replied with a shrug. Isabella smirked at him, but for once stayed silent. Anders stood, walking over and placing a hand on Fenris' shoulder.

"You're still worried about Hawke, aren't you?" The warrior was silent, and then he sighed and turned to look at the fire.

"Tell me, do you have any regrets? Either of you?"

"Everyone does," the healer answered without hesitation. "There's always something we wish we could change, or go back and fix."

"Not me," Isabella argued, taking another drink. "The past's the past. If it can't bring you gold or giggles, what's the point in dwelling on it?"

"The chance to fix a mistake?" The pirate stood, shaking her head, looking directly at Fenris when she spoke.

"Our mistakes make us who we are." He blinked at her, and Anders tilted his head and smiled slightly.

"That was almost profound," the mage said. She shrugged and raised the bottle in salute. Fenris chuckled, turning away from the fire and picking up a bottle once more.

"The past is the past, eh? I think I can drink to that." Anders picked up a bottle as well, uncorking it and putting it to his lips.

"Well why not? You're only young once."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Months passed, and the group had more or less accepted Fenris once more. With Isabella's prodding, and Anders just doing his own thing, Merrill and Varric hadn't taken too long in mostly forgiving him. Aveline had threatened to pike him on the wall if he ever did something that stupid again. But it was their leader who was the last to let the anger go. It was almost two months before Hawke came over to drink and swap stories again, and Fenris found that he missed those chats. He'd never really considered how close he'd gotten to everyone until they weren't there. But earning their trust was something he worked on, and offering to protect Anders when he had the clinic open had been a good start. And now… Now he needed his friends, and was only hoping they would want to help him. He climbed the stairs to Varric's suite, hearing the others' voices. When he walked in, Anders and Merrill turned and smiled at him. "You're late, Elf," Varric teased, shaking his head.

"My apologies," he replied after a moment. Isabella noticed the piece of paper he had clutched in his hand, and pointed at it.

"What's that?" The Elf stiffened for a moment, but then handed it to her. The pirate scanned the lines of writing, looked confused, and then handed it back.

"It's from my sister. I managed to contact her. She… Is coming here to meet me."

"That's wonderful!" Merrill exclaimed. But Anders saw the fear and hesitation in Fenris' eyes, and walked over to him.

"You're worried about something."

"Am I that obvious?"

"You must be. Even I can tell something's wrong," the Dalish pointed out. Fenris sat down at the table, and Hawke slid a mug of ale over to him.

"This is the sister that Hadrianna mentioned? The one who's not a slave?"

"Exactly. I sent her coin to come here, but… The more I think Danarius does not know about this, the more I am convinced that he does. I…" He closed his eyes, resting his head against his gauntlets for a moment. "I cannot do this alone."

"Fenris, if you need us, we'll be there," Anders offered.

"We are still friends," Merrill reminded him. The former slave looked at Hawke, who raised an eyebrow back at him.

"I would understand if you don't wish-"

"Fenris, the mages are right," the human interrupted. "Just let us know when she's here, and we'll all come with you to meet her. And either she accepts her brother's companions, or she runs away screaming in terror."

"And if Danarius shows up?"

"Then we send him back to Tevinter in small pieces," Isabella replied.

"We could even gift wrap them," Varric suggested with a chuckle. Fenris sighed and nodded, looking at the group.

"Thank you. This means a lot to me."

* * *

><p>It was a week later, and Fenris was pacing outside the Hanged Man. Varric and Isabella were more than likely inside already, but he was waiting for the others. "Are you that nervous?" Hawke called out as he, Merrill, Anders, and Aveline came over.<p>

"I haven't seen Varania since we were young teenagers, when Danarius bought me. What do I say to her?"

"You could start with "hello", and go from there," Merrill told him, giving him a sympathetic smile. What would have sounded sarcastic from anyone else just sounded… Gentle when it came from her. It was little wonder why Hawke loved her.

"Let's go," the warrior Elf said, trying to hide the small smile on his face. As they entered the tavern, they all noticed it seemed more crowded than normal. Isabella and Varric waved from a nearby table, and Aveline and Merrill went to sit with them. Hawke and Anders remained with Fenris as he spied a pretty redhead Elf sitting by herself in a corner. Though she was older, there was no mistaking his sister. He walked over as if in a trance, barely listening to the chatter and noise around him. "Varania?" She looked over at him, but her expression never changed from one of nervous tension. "I remember you," he continued. "We would play in our master's courtyard while mother worked."

"Leto. It has been too long." She stood, but now looked down at the floor. Hawke was too busy being bothered by her mood to comment on Fenris' other name.

"What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?" And then there was movement at the top of the stairs, and a gray-haired man in Tevinter robes started descending them. Anders saw it too, and instantly grabbed his staff.

"Fenris, it's a trap!" the human warrior yelled, unsheathing his sword. The Elf's gaze snapped to the stairs, and it felt like he'd been sucker-punched. All the air left him, and his eyes went impossibly wide as his mouth hung open.

"Ah, my little Fenris," Danarius cooed. "Predictable as always." Varania stood and went to his side, and Fenris snarled at her.

"You… You brought him here?"

"I had no choice, Leto."

"Stop calling me that!" Hawke saw that some of the "patrons" were now standing and drawing their own weapons. The actual customers and staff all headed for the nearest exit. Their other friends now stood, weapons raised to fight.

"Now, now Fenris, don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."

"Oh, so you reward traitors and deceivers?" Hawke wondered. "And here I was wondering if I could **possibly** hate Tevinter more."

"What's this?" the older man wondered, a grin crossing his face. "The Champion of Kirkwall? Is this your new master?"

"Fenris is a free man," Hawke shot back, eyes narrowing.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you for taking advantage of him. The lad is rather… Skilled, isn't he?" Fenris turned a fierce shade of crimson, and Anders felt Justice stir. Oh, this man would get what was coming to him one way or another.

"Shut your mouth, Danarius!" the warrior Elf yelled, lyrium brands lighting up. But the magister just sighed and made a couple of arcane gestures.

"The word is "master". I see you will need to relearn respect." And then chaos ensued as the two sides clashed with one another. Anders watched as Fenris charged towards Danarius, only to be stopped at the last moment and thrown back. Again he tried to reach the man, to have the mage simply stand there smirking, and launch him away with a flick of his wrist. The third time it happened, the healer decided to get involved. As he stepped forward, he hurled a barrage of ice spikes at Danarius, who managed to put up a shield just in time. As the others fought around them, the magister seemed intrigued by the blonde. "You think you can take me on, boy?"

"I know I can, old man."

"Have you ever faced a magister before?" Anders felt his own smirk start, and spirit fire surrounded him in a nimbus. But Justice himself didn't manifest: The Spirit was merely lending him some power to take down this mockery of a mage.

"Have you ever faced a Warden before?"

"Anders, no!" Fenris yelled, standing behind him. "I must-"

"You can't fight him as he is," the healer argued gently, turning to face him. "He can control the flow of magick in your markings. If I had to guess, it was a failsafe to make sure you couldn't turn on him."

"Very good," Danarius praised, raising an eyebrow. "Seems you aren't a normal mage." Anders shook his head, taking up a fresh grip on his staff.

"You have no idea… Fenris, once I wear down his magick, he's all yours. I promise. For now, help the others." The warrior started to argue, but then nodded. As he turned to assist the group, the two mages squared off once more. Fire and ice sprang to life in Anders' hands, even as Danarius sliced into his arm to summon Shades to aid him. Spells flew around the room, impacting on barriers or hitting into walls. It was a dance Anders had not done in years, but the thrill of it was something he missed. The knowledge of what he could do and how far he could push himself were almost as second nature as breathing, and he was betting that Danarius used mostly blood magick, which he'd encountered enough times to be able to counter. As the magister's allies dwindled, Fenris chanced to look at the two mages locked in combat. What he saw made him pause:

Anders moved and struck with the precision and speed of a warrior, but he seemed to be more graceful. The way he would launch a spell and then immediately call on a barrier for defense was flawlessly executed, and every gesture of his hands and movement of his staff seemed to serve a purpose. The blue fire surrounding him made the mage seem more… Intimidating, and the Elf shivered. Anders was no weakling, and anyone who had ever thought that of him had obviously never seen the man fight.

"Elf, watch your back!" Varric shouted, quickly firing two bolts at the man sneaking up behind the distracted warrior. Fenris nodded at the Dwarf.

"A bit preoccupied, are we?" Isabella teased as she landed next to him, a bloody dagger in each hand. "I know he's nice to look at, but ogle the mage later."

"I wasn't-"

"Uh-uh, no lying to Auntie Isabella!" And then the pirate was gone again, blades imbedding themselves in a soldier's chest. Fenris took a deep breath to calm himself, but then his eyes focused on Danarius. The magister seemed to be having trouble keeping up with Anders' attacks, and now might be his chance. He flashed across the floor, blade raised to take the swing. But the older man turned, and one hand came up to try and cast the warrior back again. However, Anders saw the move, and called on one last spell.

"No you don't!" he chastised, concentrating on the rather powerful magick. Danarius found himself frozen in place, barely able to breathe as the air was squeezed from his lungs. "Now Fenris!" The Elf nodded, bringing the blade down and slicing deeply into the magister's back. He toppled to the ground as Anders released the spell, and stared up at Fenris, eyes wide. The warrior dropped his sword, grabbing the man around the throat and hauling him to his feet.

"You are no longer my master!" he screamed, plunging his other hand into Danarius' chest. He grabbed the man's heart, feeling the organ beat madly in his hand, before crushing it in his talons. Dark blood coated the magister's chin as Fenris dropped the body, his own chest heaving. Around him lay the bodies of Danarius' guards, and the rest of the group was watching him. There was a small sound behind him, and Fenris whirled to find Varania standing against the far wall, arms up as if to ward off an attack.

"Please, I had no choice, Leto-" she began.

"You betrayed me! Why?" She dropped her hands, glaring at him.

"You have no idea what I've had to do since Mother died. What I did to try and survive. Danarius was going to make me his apprentice for this. I would have been a magister one day." The group was stunned.

"Your sister's a mage?" Anders asked softly.

"I… Do not remember that." Fenris put a hand to his head, searching for a memory of that, but none were found.

"No, the ritual for your markings took your memory. Had it not been for Hadrianna, you might never have known about me." Fenris was not about to tell her that he did indeed remember bits of his past. Scattered though they were, it was all he had left of what he had been.

"So, what do we do with her?" Hawke wondered, folding his arms over his chest.

"Are you going to kill me too?"

"Well, the thought had crossed our minds," Isabella confessed.

"You sold out your own brother for power," Fenris told her. "They were the ones who forced these brands on me! You would have become the very thing I despise!"

"Because it was all I had left!" she shot back, fists clenched. "You think those marks were forced on you? No brother, quite the opposite: You wanted them, fought for them, and then you used the boon you received to set Mother and I free." Fenris stepped back, not believing what he was hearing. "But freedom was no boon. I look on you now and know that you received the better part of that deal." Fenris stood staring at her, mouth open in shock and partial horror. He had **wanted** these brands? Why on earth would he have wanted to be marked like this? For what purpose-

"Fenris," Hawke interrupted his thoughts. "What do we do with her? She's your sister, so…" The Champion was standing with his arms crossed, still glaring a bit at Varania. And his sister still looked defiant and upset.

"I would have given you everything," he whispered to her. Then he turned away, hanging his head. "Get out of my sight." She paused, but then there were two hands on her arms. One belonged to Merrill, and the Dalish girl tugged on her. The other belonged to Anders, and he looked mad.

"Being a magister is no path for you. Do something useful with your magick."

"How dare you judge me!" The healer tightened his grip on her arm, and his eyes flashed blue for just a moment. Varania stared at him in terror.

"You almost sold out a good man to a monster. Better run before I decide to let my own out." She nodded, tore herself free from his grip, and ran from the Hanged Man like every Demon in the Fade was chasing her. Anders took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to calm himself. Isabella tapped his arm and pointed to Fenris, who was standing by Danarius' body, head still down and shoulders slumped.

"I wanted to find my past, to have something good to hold on to. But there is nothing there for me. Not any more. And… And I damaged the good things I had here myself. I am alone…"

"You're not alone," Anders tried to tell him. But the Elf wasn't in any place to hear him. He turned to the group, tears in his eyes.

"Oh Fenris…" Merrill breathed, feeling her throat get tight. "It'll be all right."

"I thought magick was the root of all my problems. As it turns out, I was the cause all along… If I truly wanted these markings, then I have been a hypocrite this whole time. Cursing mages for what I thought had been forced upon me."

"That still doesn't excuse Danarius treating you like he did," Hawke argued.

"Maybe not, but he was one man. One man who tainted my world beyond repair. I… Need to go." And then he was gone in a flash of lyrium speed. Anders looked back at the group, and they seemed to share his expression of helplessness.

"Go to him," Merrill finally said. "You're the only one who can help him."

"Either talk him down, make him laugh, or just have your way with him," Isabella told him. "Although I vote for the third option." The healer blushed, and looked at Hawke, who sighed and nodded.

"None of us can help him. Just be careful, Anders."

"He won't hurt me."

"Not physically, no." The blonde nodded and took off for Hightown, trying to get Isabella's comment out of his head. Maker, this was going to be an interesting talk.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Well, this story is done. I might write more in this universe at some point, since I like this Hawke and his friends.

Chapter 8

Anders saw that the front door to the mansion stood slightly open. Something that wouldn't normally be cause for alarm now had every one of his senses on full alert. What if Danarius had sent guards here to wait for the Elf? He would have been walking into an ambush with no backup and barely a mind to notice it. "Fenris!" he called out, striding into the entryway. There was no answer, and the feeling of dread grew larger. "Fenris!" Now he was in the main room, looking around to see if there were any fresh bloodstains or bodies in Tevinter uniforms. And then he heard the sound of glass breaking in Fenris' room, and he was up the stairs seemingly a moment later, staff in one hand and a fireball in the other. But what he saw made the fire fizzle out. Fenris was curled up in the center of the room, smashed bottles and broken furniture scattered around him. The Elf was holding the remains of one bottle, and Anders wasn't sure if it was wine or blood dripping from between his fingers. "Fenris?"

"Leave me."

"I don't think so," Anders shot back, carefully stepping into the room. He dropped down beside the warrior, gently prying his fingers open until the broken glass fell to the floor. "Did you do all this?" Soft blue light jumped from his fingertips to the lacerations on Fenris' hand, closing them quickly.

"Pain seemed preferable to feeling nothing." The healer cringed, knowing he'd often felt the same way at times.

"Come on, let's get you off the floor." The Elf stood with some prodding from the blonde, but when they got over to his bed, he sat down on the edge and stared at the floor. "Fenris… Please talk to me. Let me help you."

"Why do you want to help me?"

"Because that's what friends do, damnit!" Anders felt like tearing his hair out. What would it take to get Fenris to see? "Friends are there for each other, no matter what. And if this is about telling the Templars about me-"

"You should hate me for that!" the Elf shouted, standing up now, anger clear on his face. "You should despise my very existence for helping them hurt you!" Anders blinked for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just like you despised Danarius for what he did to you?"

"Yes!"

"So… You think I should become you?" The Elf started to retort, but then closed

his mouth and sat back down, head in his hands.

"No. I do not wish for you to be like me. You are… Much stronger than I ever gave you credit for, mage. That was made rather clear today."

"What, you mean when I fought Danarius?" Fenris looked up and nodded.

"I never really paid attention to how you fight, but today I could not help but notice. Every gesture, every stance, and every word you utter has a purpose. Like a warrior trained in a particular style, you do not waste energy on pointless moves. Where did you learn all that?" Anders shrugged and leaned against the wall.

"I learned the basics at the Circle, but then when I joined the Wardens, I was taught the ways of the Arcane Warrior. The Commander thought it might do me some good, and he was right. Before I learned, I was a coward who always hid in the back."

"You? A coward? I cannot picture that."

"You also didn't know me back then. As much as I don't like being a Warden, it was good for me. And it's how I met Justice…" The mage trailed off, closing his eyes and sighing. Fenris stood, frowning as he looked at the blonde. There was tension in his frame again, and all the Elf wanted to do was relieve it. Before he knew what he was doing, the warrior was by Anders' side, one hand resting on his chest. Amber eyes opened and stared at him, blinking at the sudden closeness. "Fenris?"

"I wish to confess something. Do you remember when I found you at Lirene's, and you were…" He trailed off, but Anders nodded.

"Broken? I remember."

"Do you know why I used my real name?"

"You mean Leto? No, I didn't even know you remembered it."

"I have bits and pieces of my past, but that is mostly unimportant. Leto… He was a scared, broken shell of a man. He let things get to him, and knew he would never escape his fate. Leto is the name of a slave. But Fenris… Fenris is a warrior who refused to full submit to his "master". He pressed on, even when it seemed pointless, until he found freedom. But that day, you didn't need a warrior, you needed someone who knew what you had gone through. I have tried to keep Leto and Fenris separate, because I believed that no one could be both strong and weak. But you… You were and always will be Anders. You are not afraid to show weakness, but there is strength in you that cannot be overlooked. I… I have never known one such as you, but I am glad to call you friend."

"Oh." Anders seemed surprised by the confession, but also slightly upset. "Just friends? I… Can live with that." He looked away for a moment, but Fenris put a firm hand on his chin and turned his face back.

"If there is something on your mind, mage, then say it." There was a pause, and then Fenris found himself pinned against the wall, Anders' mouth pressed to his own. The Elf was startled at first, but made no move to throw the healer off. In a way, it seemed almost appropriate. Finally, Anders broke the kiss, backing up and panting a bit.

He stared at Fenris, eyes wide, feeling his heart thump wildly in his chest. Oh Maker, he was so dead…

"Fenris, I'm sor-" And the next instant, the mage found their positions reversed, and the warrior kept his arms pinned at his sides. There was a triumphant smirk on Fenris' face when he pulled back, and Anders stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Have I rendered you speechless?" the Elf wondered with a chuckle. "That is impressive." Anders frowned and pushed away from the wall.

"Are you toying with me?" he asked, hurt creeping into his voice. His eyes roamed Fenris' face, trying to see of there was some clue he'd missed.

"No mage, I know better than to play with emotions."

"Then… How long have you felt this way?" Fenris shrugged and sat down on his bed again, taking off his gauntlets.

"I… Do not know. I suspect that sharing a similar past allowed me to drop my guard around you sooner than I am used to. And today… Today I could not help but see you in a different light. And Isabella picked up on that immediately."

"She does seem to have a sixth sense for sexual things, doesn't she?" Anders joked, rolling his eyes and smiling slightly. He sat down on the bed as well, but left room between them. He didn't want to crowd the Elf now. "So… Where does that leave us?"

"I cannot speak for you, but as for myself… I am tired of being alone." Fenris looked up and met Anders' gaze, and the healer's smile only widened. "If you are willing to give this a chance… We can see where it goes."

"Ready, willing, and able!" the mage replied enthusiastically. A moment later, Fenris' mouth was once more pressed to his, and Anders found himself pulled onto the bed. It didn't take long for the Elf's armor and jerkin to be on the floor, and his coat and robe followed soon after. With the warrior sitting on top of him, Anders had a glorious view of the lyrium marks and the patterns they made on his sculpted chest and stomach. Unable to resist, he gently started tracing them with one hand, until he felt Fenris tense. "I'm sorry," he apologized, immediately pulling his hand back. "I just…" Then he took a deep breath and placed both hands on Fenris' hips. "Maker, you're beautiful."

"You honestly think so? My markings do not… Abhor you?"

"Should they?" Anders wondered, propping himself up with one arm. "They don't take anything away from you, Fenris. But they don't define you, either. I can't imagine how painful it was to receive them, but I have never known you without them. To me, they're just one part of you, and I like the whole package." The smile that graced Fenris' face made Anders' heart… And something else, swell. For the Elf to know that he wasn't just interested in him for the lyrium seemed to make him happy. Anders' hand once more began caressing the markings, and this time was allowed to continue. At the same time, the Elf let his own hands wander, gently slipping down the mage's chest, his eyes pausing for a moment at a scar directly over his heart. Other than that, Anders' body was virtually untouched… Until he came to the scars on his torso. Fenris dragged one hand over the marks, and the blonde shivered under the touch, breath hitching in his throat.

"Do you believe that this defines you? That this word is what you truly are?"

"I've been an apostate for years. Now I just get a daily reminder." But the warrior shook his head, deliberately tracing each letter.

"You are a mage, a healer, a Warden, a friend, and… A lover. Apostate just means you fled the Circle, does it not?"

"Yes," Anders replied with some hesitation.

"But if there were no Circles, this word would be meaningless, yes?" Anders nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. "The Templars will never have you," Fenris vowed, falling forward until he was nose to nose with the mage. "Though I may not see the need for all mages to be free, I swear that you will never return to any Circle as long as I draw breath."

"Thank you…" Anders kissed him, arms pulling the Elf against his chest as tears fell from his eyes. It was all he had ever wanted to hear.

* * *

><p>The sun peeked over the mansions and estates of Hightown, and Fenris stirred in his sleep. He was warm, and the body pressed against his side- Body? He sat up, eyes wide open as the events of the previous night came back to him. He looked down to see Anders still asleep, the mage with a small smile on his face. Grinning, the Elf reached over and gently tapped the mage on the nose. Anders scrunched his face up and stretched. Fenris marveled at how cat-like the move was, and then he was looking into sleepy, amber eyes. "Morning already?" the healer asked softly.<p>

"I'm afraid so."

"I don't feel like moving though."

"Well, we should probably at least go see Hawke. Before he sends out the cavalry to find you." Anders sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"You mean breaks down your door wondering where I am?" The Elf shrugged.

"Something like that." As if on cue, there came a shout from downstairs:

"Fenris!" Both men looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"Maker, he's worse than a mother hen," the mage quipped.

"He's just being a good big brother. Up here, Hawke!" Fenris called out.

"Except that I'm older." The stairs creaked as Hawke seemed to run up them, and then he was standing in the door, looking concerned.

"Have you seen Anders, he didn't- Anders?" The blonde smirked and waved at the other man. "You didn't come home last night."

"I was busy." And then the human warrior seemed to put the pieces together, and he turned red and put a hand over his eyes.

"Maker's ass, would you two put some clothes on?"

"I could, but this is **my** home," Fenris shot back.

"And I'm feeling lazy," Anders explained, snuggling back into the covers. Hawke shook his head and started laughing, turning away from the room.

"Nice to see everything worked out. I'll tell Isabella that she won the bet."

"What bet?" the mage asked, sitting up once more.

"You can ask her later. See you both at the Hanged Man." Then he was gone, leaving Fenris and Anders alone once more.

"They're going to be talking about us all day," Fenris brought up. He pulled Anders into an embrace, and the mage rested his head on the warrior's shoulder.

"Let them talk then. They might get on my nerves on occasion, but they mean well. Besides… I think I came out ahead this time."

"We both did," Fenris agreed. "But come, we should get dressed and-" He was pinned to the bed a moment later, staring up at the large grin on Anders' face.

"In a bit. I'm in the mood for a repeat of last night. Minus the depressive bits." Fenris smirked and rolled, flipping their positions.

"As you wish."

* * *

><p>Isabella and Varric were currently reading over some "friend fiction" they'd written earlier, and Hawke and Merrill were cuddling in the corner. Aveline was going over some reports, and looked up to see Fenris and Anders coming up the stairs to Varric's suite. "Well, about time you two showed up. We were beginning to think you forgot about us!" the Captain teased. The others all looked up, grins on their faces. Anders blushed, but Fenris merely shrugged.<p>

"So… You two have a nice night?" Isabella wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"We did," the Elf told her, taking a seat at the table.

"I'm so happy for you two!" Merrill blurted out, smiling brightly. The two men looked at each other, then at Hawke, who shrugged.

"I only told her. Everyone else had it figured out already."

"What, did you think we were all blind?" the pirate demanded.

"Even I knew something was up," Aveline revealed. Varric had opened his notebook and was writing something in it. Anders leaned forward, but the Dwarf pulled back and grinned at the mage, his quill paused.

"You're giving me that look again. What are you writing this time?" the blonde asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"I need some details: Did you go down on one knee? Did he jump you? Did you swear eternal vows of love, or is this just a physical thing?" The healer turned crimson and nearly fell out of his chair.

"I don't see how that's any of your business!" he finally shot back. Varric shrugged and looked over at Fenris, who raised an eyebrow.

"I want to make sure I get all the details right when I tell this story. Did he sweep you off your feet? I'm assuming he did the sweeping. He's taller than you. Awkward otherwise." The Elf shook his head.

"I'm not telling you anything but this: There was no actual sweeping involved." The storyteller sighed and fixed both of them with a playful glare.

"Fine, but if you don't tell me, I'll just have to make it up."

"I can live with that," Fenris told him.

"Me too," Anders agreed. Hawke rolled his eyes and looked at Isabella.

"So, Diamondback or Wicked Grace?"

"Strip Diamondback?" she asked, an impish grin on her face.

"Oh, yes please!" Merrill said, clapping her hands. Everyone turned to stare at her, and she blushed and shrunk back. "What? I can't like seeing my friends nearly naked?" There was silence, before Isabella tipped her head back and started laughing. The other joined in after the initial surprise wore off.

"That's my Kitten!" the pirate said, pride in her voice. "Now come on, let's play!" Fenris reached for his cards with one hand, feeling Anders take his other and give it a small squeeze. He looked over at the mage and smiled.

"Glad to have you back, Fenris," Hawke said as he picked up his own cards.

"Glad to be back, my friend."


End file.
